


Paper Walls

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Mugen no Juunin | Blade of the Immortal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-22
Updated: 2003-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-25 03:33:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1629314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A cold night in Edo; thin walls at the inn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paper Walls

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Eleanor K.

 

 

Disclaimer: They belong to Hiroaki Samura, not me.   
 

* * *

  


The rain rattled on the roof. 

Strong winds tossed branches, knocked shutters back with loud clacks, and threw cold rain around with abandon. Magatsu pulled Anotsu into the room. Light from an oil lamp cast flickering shadows across pale walls. 

Magatsu pulled down his mask, and ran his fingers through his hair. He grimaced as the icy water pooled on the tatami mats. 

"Bad storm. Best we wait it out here." 

Anotsu frowned. His hair was dripping as well, but typically, for Anotsu, it didn't seem to bother him. _Man of ice and steel,_ thought Magatsu briefly. _Why would a little winter storm bother him? Did it matter if it was the worst one in a century, even?_

"We should get back to the dojo." 

A soft puff of laughter escaped Magatsu's lips. "Sure thing, boss man. Let's head on back outside, and see if we stand up straight this time." He looked at Anotsu with just a hint of frustration. "We're a good hour's walk from the door. Let's at least wait out the worst of the storm here." 

"Ever the voice of reason, mmm?" 

Magatsu shrugged, and stepped closer to the brazier in the middle of the room, his numbed fingers seeking the warmth. "I'm thin-blooded. And that rain has me chilled to the bone." 

"Mmmmmm." Anotsu stepped closer to the brazier as well. His hands were folded across his chest in typical fashion. "And the fact that you know the owner of this...fine...establishment had nothing to do with your decision to stop here." 

A tight grin flashed across Magatsu's face. "Jealous?" 

Anotsu snorted. "Hardly. But did he have to be so blatant with his flirting?" 

The grin widened into a real smile, and half a laugh. "Hah! You should see your face! Don't worry about Yoji. He flirts with everything standing, and most that doesn't." 

"This is supposed to make me feel better how?" Anotsu was still frowning, but a bit of a twitch played at the corners of his mouth. Magatsu glanced at Anotsu's eyes. They were dark with shadows, and you had to know what to look for. Magatsu was afraid he knew more about Anotsu than anyone else ever had. 

And that thought scared him more than he cared to admit. Instead, he focused on the way Anotsu looked, wet hair dripping around his face, kimono plastered to lean muscles, and breathed hard as the sudden rush of desire swept through him. 

"Kagehisa?" The question was apparent in Magatsu's eyes, in the tentative way he used the intimate name. Anotsu flashed a quick grin, and opened his arms. That was all the answer Magatsu needed. 

"Let's get you out of your wet clothes," Magatsu murmured. He suited actions to words, hand grazing along the edge of the belt, slipping in between layers easily. He found skin, clammy with rain, and pressed in with his lips. 

Anotsu always tasted clean. Even when he got sweaty (which wasn't often, only during the pounding heat of the summer, and then only during a strenuous workout), he still tasted _clean_ to Magatsu. Salt and rainwater. Magatsu drank it in like sake, desperate passion driving him on. 

Even with damp cloth clinging to skin, it didn't take long for Magatsu to get Anotsu undressed. Shortly, he was kneeling before the glistening flesh, smelling the musk wafting off the rising erection, the brazier a dull glow on his back. Magatsu devoured it all as he leaned forward, lips brushing against the velvety skin. 

"Taito," Anotsu breathed, and tangled his fingers in the other man's hair.   
 

* * *

  


"Anything interesting?" Manji lounged on his futon, face in shadows. Sori turned his face to look at him, and sighed. 

"Want to keep it down? We don't want to scare the folks in the other room." 

"Heh." Manji snorted. "If the one guy's any good, neither of them are going to be paying attention to us." 

Sori sighed again, and leaned his ear to the screen separating the rooms, listening to the muffled, wet moans. Manji continued, "Yeah, sounds like they're just getting into it." Sori rolled his eyes, almost involuntarily. Trust Manji to ruin a perfectly good voyeuristic moment. 

The rustle of fabric from behind almost obscured the sharp gasp from next door. Sori turned to look. Manji had half-sat up, leaning back on his arms, eyes intent on Sori's reaction to the tenting of fabric over his midsection. 

Sori stared, first at the obvious arousal, then at Manji's face. The oil lamp flickered, and the shadows made his face look demonic. Scars reflected light differently, he noted for future paintings. But it was the heat in Manji's one remaining eye that trapped him, and made his breath catch. 

"Mm," Sori hummed, thoughtfully. A few dozen scenarios skittered through his mind. He looked at Manji's twisted mouth again. Oh, this could be at least as interesting as the antics in the other room. 

He didn't bother standing, just slid over the floor in the narrow room. Manji smirked, and pulled Sori the last few inches. "Knew you'd be interested in that," he stated, hands stripping off Sori's ukata expertly. Hot fingers traced and pinched along his skin. Sori found himself getting lightheaded from lust and shallow breathing. 

"Lie down," ordered Manji, and Sori complied, already aching and hard. No point in complaining when this was what he wanted, right? 

Sori gasped as a calloused finger probed insistently at his opening, arching into the slight pain. He had guessed, when they had first met, that Manji would tend to the rough side of sex, at least with other men. Not that it bothered him too much; Sori was a man who observed, and it didn't really matter if that observation hurt a bit. 

Well, what's done was done, and oh, there was the slickness. A bit of oil to ease the way, cool and slippery, sliding deep into his ass. Sori pushed up into the intrusion. 

"Yeah," and even Manji's voice was harsh, "You really want this, don't you?" Sori only groaned in answer. "I got what you want, just wait." 

That was Sori's only warning as the blunt head of Manji's cock squeezed its way in. Suddenly, all was friction and fullness, and incoherent sounds falling from his mouth. Manji was muttering as he fucked Sori hard, pressing him to the futon with his weight. Desperate for more, Sori attempted bucking upwards, but he couldn't move, Manji's hands were holding his hips down too hard.   
 

* * *

  


A desperate cry from the next room over startled the two lovers. They paused for a moment, staring at the shoji screen. Anotsu shrugged, tossed a wicked grin at Magatsu, and went back to tasting every inch of the lean body on display in front of him.   
 

* * *

  


Sori groaned in utter abandon and desperation. It wasn't enough. Fuck honor, fuck propriety, fuck observation, he wanted to come, damn it, and he wasn't going to come just by rubbing against this rough fabric. Somehow, the needy noises he was making communicated enough to Manji, and the younger man pulled _up_ and _back_ , and _there_. Sori was on his knees, straddling Manji's lap. One of Manji's arms supported Sori across his chest, the other hand found his twitching erection. 

Of course, it didn't hurt that this angle allowed Manji to pound against his prostate. Sori felt the lightning flashes of pleasure, and using his hands scrabbling at Manji's forearm as leverage, he fucked himself on the cock impaling him, fucked the hand wrapped around his cock. 

At the end of it all, Sori's world went red with blood and white with climax and black with oblivion.   
 

* * *

  


Two men lay on the floor, in a tangle of clothes and completed passion. 

Magatsu lay back, spent and panting. Anotsu lay beside him, shiny with sweat now, not rain, a small satisfied smile on his lips. Magatsu loved putting that there. His lover had so few chances to smile; too often, they turned into smirks, painful twists of the lips. Watching Anotsu's face become unguarded was one of the few moments of pure joy Magatsu had in life. 

And part of him dreaded those moments. He knew that he and Anotsu were too different, despite their desperate passions. There were moments like this, when Magatsu wanted to give it all up, and spend his life in quiet intimacy, and he knew that Anotsu never could. The Itto-ryu was too much a part of him. 

He sighed. Anotsu turned to look at him. "Yes, Taito?" 

That brought an echo of the earlier smiles back to Magatsu's face. "The rain's calmed down a bit. If you want to head back to the dojo, Kagehisa..." His voice trailed off. 

"Not so far." Anotsu smiled, broader this time. "I seem to be very comfortable here." 

That little phrase was all it took. Magatsu relaxed into the pile of clothes, happy for the moment. All seemed right in the world, even if it were only for the next few hours. 

 


End file.
